


Off the usual Paths

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Eloping, Homophobia, Khazâd November, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: It had just been a kiss, a simple little kiss at what turned out to be the worst time possible. How were they to have known that King Thrór, of all people, would open the door to that derelict storage room on that level where nobody ever went anymore?





	Off the usual Paths

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 20 of [Khazâd November](https://a-grump-of-dwarves.tumblr.com/post/166304116735/khaz%C3%A2d-november-2017), the additional prompt was "despair" (not that this really ended up going in that direction for once).  
> I'm sorry that I keep writing Thrór as the villain. I'll have to write something nice with him soon....  
> Also, I believe this is the 100th story I'm posting on AO3. No idea how and when that happened! :D

Dwalin looked at the wall. He had spent the first few days pacing, but now he just sat on the bed and stared at the wall, wondering what they would do with him and pondering the injustice of it all. It had just been a kiss, a simple little kiss at what turned out to be the worst time possible. How were they to have known that King Thrór, of all people, would open the door to that derelict storage room on that level where nobody ever went anymore?

Corruption of the heir indeed. It had been Thorin who had made the first step, Thorin who had initiated it all, not that Dwalin was protesting in the least. And now Dwalin was facing banishment or worse. Because corrupting the heir pretty much amounted to treason, especially since Thrór was enraged that Thorin wouldn’t produce an heir anytime soon if things continued this way. 

And Dwalin couldn’t face banishment, couldn’t face a life away from Thorin. Dwalin’s thoughts were spinning in circles, weighing the options and realising there weren’t many. And it wasn’t as if he could do anything, locked up in this old room in the barracks. At least they hadn’t locked him into the mountain’s prison since he was of noble blood himself, not that that made much difference. 

He had been able to see Thorin for the first time again today, if only across the courtroom with two dwarves standing by to make sure they didn’t communicate through Iglishmêk or any other means. Thorin had smiled at him, his face pale. Dwalin had smiled back, forcing his muscles to move through the layers of despair weighing them down. 

When the hearing was adjourned for two days and Dwalin was led from the courtroom, he turned his head to look at Thorin sending him another sad smile and a brief wave. 

“Face forward!” His guard had commanded and Dwalin had had no choice but to obey. 

And now he was sitting here again, stuck in this room staring at the wall, completely out of options. 

There were footsteps in the hallway. Dwalin wrinkled his forehead. He had already received his dinner on a tray so he wasn’t expecting to see another person until morning at least. 

The footsteps stopped outside his door. A key turned in the lock. The door squeaked open. 

To Dwalin’s great surprise, it was Thorin who entered the room. He grinned at Dwalin while Dwalin stared at him in disbelief.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” Dwalin asked.

“I’d thought you would be happy to see me,” Thorin said, the grin still on his face.

“I am. I just don’t understand how you managed to get in.”

“The guard on duty owed me a favour and is now also the owner of a rather heavy bag of gold. He now also has a bit of a bump on the back of his head so that he won’t get into too much trouble.”

“What are you going to do?” Dwalin asked, his mind still numb from surprise.

“We’re leaving. Or do you have a better plan? Perhaps waiting to see just what exactly my grandfather is going to come up with?”

Dwalin got to his feet. “But what about you?”

“I’m coming with you. I won’t be separated from you, and certainly not in this way. I have enough money to get us far away from here and then we’ll be able to work as smiths somewhere. Are you coming? We don’t have forever.”

Dwalin nodded. 

“Here, wear this,” Thorin said, throwing a long cloak with a hood over his shoulders. “It’s not the perfect disguise, but it should do until we leave the mountain and get to where I left some supplies for the road.”

Wordlessly, Dwalin followed Thorin out of his prison, wondering if they would succeed in escaping and how their life would look. 

 

They passed the guards at the gate without any problems. Dwalin wasn’t sure if they really didn’t recognise him in his disguise or if King Thrór just hadn’t been advertising that he was taking Dwalin to court and for what reasons. Either way, Dwalin wasn’t complaining.

The cool night air felt good on his face after breathing nothing but the dank barracks air for days. The stars twinkled in the clear summer sky, where the full moon hung low. It would light their way, but it would also raise the risk of them being seen.

“This way,” Thorin said as they stepped through the gates, grinning at Dwalin. “We should reach the borders of Mirkwood within one or two days on the North Road.”

And suddenly, Dwalin felt the joy at the adventure, the happiness of a life without the previous restraints bubbling up in him and manifesting in a grin that threatened to split his face in two.

“Well then, let’s go!” Dwalin said, falling into step at Thorin’s side. 

Thorin had hidden their supplies a little way into the forest that the road to Dale led through. They each shouldered one of the packs.

“I packed some blankets, clothes, a hammer, your axes, lots of cram, some fresh food for the next few days and gold,” Thorin said as the set off again.

“Sounds good,” Dwalin said. “Are you really planning on taking the road to Mirkwood?”

Throrin shook his head. “No, I just wanted to set the guards on the wrong trail for when they are questioned. I think we should set off on the road towards Lake-town before we reach Dale and then head south, avoiding all settlements and only travelling by night for a few days.”

“That’s a good plan. If only we had ponies, then we’d be a lot faster.”

“Wait and see,” Thorin said.

 

Half a mile before the road to Lake-town branched off from the one to Dale, Thorin led them off the road onto a narrow path. Before long, the path ended on a pasture. Thorin went straight to the small shed on it, were Dwalin realised he had hidden two saddles. They quickly saddled two of the ponies and Thorin deposited a bag of gold in the fodder in the shed.

“That should be enough for the two ponies.”

Dwalin laughed. “I can tell we won’t be living the lives of true outlaws. I just hope they don’t find the gold too soon.”

“Don’t worry, the ponies’ owner only comes here every couple of days and he was here yesterday. It should take him a few days to realise what happened and until then, the guards will assume we are on foot. Now let’s go. The farther we get tonight, the better.”

 

The rode their ponies along the path leading away from the pasture in the other direction and before long, they reached the road to Lake-town. Without a word, they spurred their ponies into a gallop on the smooth road. 

They continued that way throughout the night, alternating between gallop and a brisk walk. They didn’t speak much, the occasional grin between them sufficed. After a few hours, they reached the road crossing where one road led on to Lake-town and the other continued on southwards, one of the two routes used for dealings with the elves. They would eventually leave the main road when it turned towards Mirkwood and follow a smaller, less well maintained road which was mostly used by fishermen and farmers that lived in small settlements along the Long Lake. 

Dwalin and Thorin were shortly before a small settlement close to the road when day dawned. They could hear roosters crowing and the first voices rising to call the goats in for milking.

Dwalin and Thorin exchanged glances. There was no way they wouldn’t be seen if they continued.

“This way,” Thorin said quietly, turning his pony onto one of the many small paths leading away from the village. They followed the criss-crossing paths until the paths became smaller from lack of use. 

Finally, Dwalin pointed at an old, nearly derelict shed. “Do you think that will do?”

They went closer and took a look around. The door swung open when they pushed it, trailing what looked like at least a year’s worth of cobwebs with it. They grinned at each other.

“Looks good,” Thorin said, sweeping aside more cobwebs with his arms as he entered and looked around. There were some tools on the walls, many of them coming apart from old age, and even some old bales of hay. 

“Should we leave the ponies outside to graze?” Thorin asked.

Dwalin threw another cursory glance around the landscape. The little meadow was shielded from view by several little woods and he very much doubted anyone would pass on the tiny path they had travelled, not since the hay harvest was already done. 

“Yes, I don’t think anyone will see them or think much of it if they do.”

They tethered the ponies on long ropes a distance away from the shed, close enough to a little stream to let them drink. Then they spread on of the blankets across the bales of hay and settled down on them for a brief meal of bread and cheese. 

Outside, they could hear insects buzzing through the meadow, making the most of what promised to become a bright and sunny day. 

“Thank you for rescuing me,” Dwalin said. “You didn’t have to come along, you know that.”

“Nonsense,” Thorin retorted. “We’re in this together. I’m not going to let you pay the price for what we both wanted. And I wouldn’t want to be separated from you, no matter what. Besides, I was getting tired of all the pressures of being heir. I know Frerin is eager to prove himself, so let him deal with it while we enjoy our new freedom.”

Dwalin smiled at him and leaned in for a deep kiss.

He could feel Thorin smile against his lips as Dwalin loosened his breeches.

“What are you doing?” Thorin murmured against him.

“Corrupting the heir, of course,” Dwalin retorted. “I might as well do so properly.”

Thorin’s laughter rumbling against him was all the encouragement Dwalin needed to disrobe both of them. Hungrily, he began exploring the sweaty stretches of Thorin’s body, spurred on by the occasional gasp or low moan.

Dwalin knew they should probably be resting to gather strength for the next stretch of the journey, but the sun was already high in the sky when they finally fell asleep, sated and deeply content.

 

“Good morning.”

That was not Thorin’s voice, even though Dwalin could feel Thorin wrapped around his own splayed out body. 

With a rising sense of panic, Dwalin opened his eyes. Thráin stood in the doorway, looking at them with that inscrutable gaze of his. 

Frantically, Dwalin scrabbled for one of the blankets lying somewhere beside them, trying to hide what could no longer be hidden. They had made little effort to clean up before falling asleep and the scent of sex still hung in the air. Thorin let out a rumbling snore.

Despair welled up in Dwalin. Everything that could have saved him in the trial slipped out through the gaps between the rough wooden boards that made up the walls of the shed. The faint hope of somehow convincing the judge that Thrór had been imagining things, which was treading dangerously close to treason itself. The excuse that they had somehow stumbled to land themselves in such a position. Even the conviction that they had only been kissing. All of it, gone.

Dwalin kicked Thorin’s shin to wake him and realised that he was only highlighting how close to each other they were lying.

“Mhh, not so rough, my love. We can try it rough later on,” Thorin mumbled, a soft smile on his lips.

Dwalin stared at Thráin like a goat stared at a dragon.

“Thorin.”

Something in Dwalin’s voice must have finally gotten through to Thorin and he opened his eyes. Dwalin could feel him tense next to him.

“Adad. Good morning.”

“Good morning. Though perhaps ‘good afternoon’ would be more appropriate.”

Thorin nodded. “Yes, maybe.”

They all looked at each other silently for a moment.

“So it actually is true,” Thráin eventually said. “The king wasn’t claiming to have seen something that didn’t actually take place.”

“It was just a kiss!” Dwalin said, rattling off the response he had said to himself so often in the past few days.

Thráin raised one of his impressive eyebrows. “Perhaps, but this wasn’t, was it?”

Dwalin said nothing. 

“You should get dressed. We need to get back to the mountain before the king realises you are gone.”

Dwalin nodded glumly.

“No. I’m not going back. We are not going to let ourselves be humiliated and punished for this,” Thorin said. “And more importantly, I am not going to let Dwalin pay the price for this. If anything, _I_ corrupted _him_.”

“Thorin. It’s over,” Dwalin said, defeat settling in.

“I should have told you earlier. The situation is not as dire as it might seem. I’ll explain it properly once you are dressed.” Thráin glanced around the shed. “But not in here.”

Dwalin nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. “Yes, not in here.”

Thráin closed the door behind him. Dwalin and Thorin looked at each other. 

/We could still try to run for it,/ Thorin signed.

Dwalin shook his head. /We listen to what your father has to say. We should have known this wouldn’t work./

Thorin didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled Dwalin in for a long, desperate kiss.

/Don’t! I have to speak to your father like this!/ Dwalin signed, gesturing vaguely towards where his blood was rushing once again.

Thorin snickered quietly. /We might as well make it worth it. This is probably our last chance./

/No! Your father is standing outside!/

/I know. I’m sorry./ 

Thorin softly kissed Dwalin. Dwalin felt a lump rise in his throat. He could not imagine losing Thorin.

They got dressed wordlessly after briefly washing with the water from their water skins. Then they quickly packed together the few things they had unpacked. 

Dwalin shouldered his pack and stepped towards the door, steeling himself to face the inevitable. 

“Wait,” Thorin said quietly.

He reeled Dwalin in for one last kiss, long and gentle this time. Dwalin felt weak in his knees and the lump in his throat was larger than ever. He blinked rapidly when Thorin finally pulled away.

Thorin grasped his hand. “Are you ready?”

Dwalin nodded, not quite trusting his voice.

They stepped out with their hands clasped together tightly.

Thráin took in their joined hands with a quick glance. With an _amused_ glance, Dwalin realised. 

“Don’t worry, I do not intend to tell the king what I saw,” Thráin said. “And at any rate, he will not be able to have you convicted for what he did see.”

“He won’t? Why not?” Dwalin asked, finding it hard to believe.

“The law in question was changed. That will bring its own set of difficulties when the king finds out, but you cannot be convicted for this.”

“Why does Siginadad not know of this?” Thorin asked, looking as confused as Dwalin felt.

“It was changed in one of the council meetings in which the king was absent because he was busy taking care of... finances. He will not be happy once he hears it, but the council all agreed to it when I suggested the change and the king signed it.”

“The king signed it and he didn’t even read it?!” Dwalin asked.

Beside him, Thorin sighed. “It has gotten worse than I realised, hasn’t it?”

Thráin nodded. “He often doesn’t read the laws before signing them. I try not to take advantage of it, but I did take advantage of it with this law. It just wasn’t the kind of law that should exist in our kingdom and I had an inkling that changing it might come in useful. I only added three words, ‘without his will”, which will save your neck, Dwalin, once Thorin and perhaps I make our statements. I can’t rule out that I will be suspended from the council for at least a while though, which is why I need you to return to the mountain, Thorin. Frerin just doesn’t have the experience and cunning needed for this kind of task yet, so you will be the one who takes my place on the council. I know the trial will be unpleasant and perhaps humiliating, but it will result in you being acquitted of all charges. In the unlikely case that it doesn’t, I promise I will personally help both of you leave. Will you return with me?”

Dwalin and Thorin looked at each other, then nodded.

“Good, then we should hurry. I have managed to make sure that your absence will not be noticed, at least for now. You need to be back until the trial resumes tomorrow though, otherwise, you will be trialled with attempt to hinder the justice and I will not be able to get you out of that one.”

They moved over to their ponies to saddle them.

“What about the guard who was on watch when I got Dwalin out of the barracks?” Thorin asked.

“I got to him in time to not raise the alarm. He agreed to take over the watch today as well, so that there aren’t more people in the know than strictly necessary.”

“I should give him another bag of gold.”

“Your Siginadad would be thrilled about that,” Thráin said drily.

“Those are still my savings, not his,” Thorin retorted. 

“They are. I just hope he never finds out how you spend your gold. Just like you should probably stay out his sight for a while after the trial, Dwalin.”

Dwalin nodded. “I definitely intend to.”

“One last word of advice, to both of you,” Thráin said as their mounted their ponies. “There is such a wonderful invention called ‘keys’. You should make note of the rooms that require them and keep to those. Please.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m currently taking Christmas/Yuletide/winter requests/prompts over on Dreamwidth! If you’re interested, read more here: <https://octopus-fool.dreamwidth.org/2017/12/03/>


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